Human
by Era Yachi
Summary: Brook will miss his skull jokes. Even though he is delighted to human once more, the reality of his sudden weakness and disability hits hard. Now, a new threat seeps into the midst of his beloved crew. Will he be forced to relive his oldest nightmare, in flesh and blood?
1. The Chain

_**Human**_

**Summary:** Brook will miss his skull jokes. Even though he is delighted to human once more, the reality of his sudden weakness and disabilities hits hard. Now, a new threat seeps into the midst of his beloved crew. Will he relive his oldest nightmare, in flesh and blood?

**AN:** It seems there were more than a few people who wanted to see what might happen after Brook's full recovery in 'Soul and Bones' story, chapters 15-16. If you haven't read them, I recommend you do so, but it's not 100% necessary. For those who don't: in summary, Brook's human again—an old artefact gave the Yomi Yomi No Mi a drastic boost, completing his resurrection. He is weak, feeble, and a liability to the crew...will he survive? Or will it be the crew that suffers? Mysteries for everyone!

* * *

_Chapter One: The Chain_

* * *

Brook had experienced many journeys, but none so daunting as his first trip out of infirmary with his new legs.

Every step took effort. It was as though someone had chained cannonballs to his feet, and tossed a heap of heavy coats on his back. Oh, his spine! How odd it was, to look down at one's self and not see the familiar cage of strong, healthy ribs and curved spine he had come to identify with. Now he could but _feel_ his spine ache, ninety-year-old bones complaining about the weight of muscle and skin.

Warm sunshine and the energetic laughter of his captain greeted him, as he cracked open the door. For the longest moment, Brook stood bathed in afternoon light, soaking in the invisible, warm energy. There was just one word for this: rapture.

Then he spoiled the moment by trying to take another step. His left leg threw in the towel, so to speak, and he yelped plaintively as he went careening to one side.

"Oi, oi, oi," growled the voice a familiar green-haired nakama; Zoro-san was next to him and grabbed his elbow, steadying him with a wry expression. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be recovering."

"Don't listen to moss-head, Brook," Sanji-san spoke from where he stood near the main mast. The cook exhaled smoke. "He's the last person allowed to lecture anyone about recovering. Did you eat breakfast?"

Brook recalled the absolutely delicious seafood omlette presented to him that morning—a meal which he regretfully could not keep down with a reformed, gurgling gut.

"I had, I admit, though my stomach—yohoho, I have one now, you know—did not quite enjoy as much as I," he told the cook.

"Are you seriously going to replace all your lame skull jokes with 'yohoho, I have this' from now on?" Zoro asked, annoyed.

"Just come in the kitchen before Chopper catches you out of bed," Sanji said, motioning to the kitchen door. Out of nowhere, he produced Brook's cane, which the former skeleton took with a relieved sigh. Then, for the first time in 50 years, he used it as a crutch to steady himself as he walked into the inviting dining area.

Robin-san already sat at the table, examining a book. Strange, because he had not known her to do this before, especially when Luffy was all riled up. "Good morning, Musician-san," she greeted, and went straight back to reading.

"May I ask where we are now?" Brook inquired politely, taking a gentle seat; his eyes were new and still sensitive to light, but he hadn't failed to notice the mass of land nearby.

"After you got hit with that artifact thing, the needles of the log pose pointed in this direction," Robin explained to him, without looking up.

"A-All three of them?"

"Yes. I've only pieced together what I know so far from the villagers' stories, and this book on lost treasure. I believe it's made from the same material as the Log Pose."

"Oh, I see." He did not know what else to say. This was not his area of expertise. "Where is..."

A sudden coldness overcame him. Shocking icewater in his veins (his veins!), as if something terrible were closing its jaws around his throat.

Fear. He was very, very afraid.

Of what? He could not possibly be scared now, not with his nakama so close by. As he tried to open his mouth, to ask again about the mysterious artifact, another wave of the paralyzing terror seized him. It was almost enough to make him retch again, though it only lasted a few seconds.

"Oi, Brook. You all right?" Sanji asked him; he had been tying on an apron to cook lunch. He paused in mid-knot.

"Y-Yes," he stammered, confused. Why could he say nothing about the artifact? Was it possible that the experience had changed him...further?

But Robin-san, good Robin-san, must have deduced his meaning and understood the question. "It's locked away for now. The artifact is dangerous."

Indeed. In his case, the effects of the strange, golden rod had only completed his recovery from the afterlife. A full body, alive, breathing—just as he was 50 years ago, before his death. For someone else, a Devil Fruit user with more aggresive power...even in the hands of a good soul, it was simply too risky.

It could corrupt.

Was he corrupted?

He didn't think so.

"Oi, bonehead," Zoro-san said from the doorway, and Brook jerked his head towards him. The tinted glasses on his face nearly went flying. "If you're feeling better, join me for training. Chopper says you need to use your muscles."

"But Zoro-san, I do not have any-" The musician stopped in mid-sentence, and chuckled ruefully. Oh, he missed his skull jokes.

Zoro was glaring at him.

Then Usopp appeared behind the swordsman, and slapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling. "Zoro's got a good point, Brook. If you need any advice, I'll be in my workshop-"

"Not so fast." The swordsman's voice stopped Usopp in his tracks. "You've been slacking on your training, too. You're joining us."

"Wh-What? B-But I have to-"

"Later."

"Zoro-"

"This is the New World!" The sudden outburst from their green-haired nakama brought down a deafening silence. Even Luffy's noise in the background ceased entirely. Zoro stood firmly at the door, arms crossed, eyes closed. When he opened them, the resolve there burned into Brook's memory like hot steel. "I shouldn't have to remind you guys. One of our crew can't fend for himself now. If you won't pick up the slack, then just leave. Today."

There was a trembling in the air, tension so thick that it could be cut with his Soul Solid. It wasn't Zoro's fault, but the words stung him deeply. Brook knew it was the truth. For now, at least, he was a burden on the crew, a weak link that posed a threat to their survival. He would need protection from any imminent threats, and he could not do very much to defend them in return. All at once, he felt a throbbing sense of guilt deep in his gut.

How could he be of any use now? He could hardly lift his cane, let alone slash at an enemy.

"It will be okay."

The voice was their captain's. Luffy-san didn't need to ask; Zoro stepped aside as soon as he heard it, and their leader strode into the room. His expression was so full of confidence, of optimism and love, it nearly split Brook's heart. A much more accute pain than it had been before, when it was just the ghost of a long-lost organ.

"I can protect all of you," Luffy-san went on to say, adding a 'shi shi shi' of a laugh. "Brook will get better and Sanji can make a feast to celebrate! Yo ho ho ho!"

"Baka," their cook muttered, turning to light the stove. "You'll make any excuse for a party."

But he was smiling, too.

And so was Brook. It did not reflect the soul-snaring worry that blanketed him, now that he had realized his grievous flaws, how erroneous he'd been to think this change would come without consequence. Still, his captain had told them it would be okay. Luffy-san had never been wrong about such things before, even in the most dire of situations. It was almost enough to believe beyond the shadow of a doubt that all would be well.

He looked (with eyes!) down at his hand. Gnarled, thin, and shaky. This was not the hand of a strong man. Even if he _did_ recover his former strength as a human, he would be forever handicapped. Much of what he'd learned in five decades he would have to learn again. He did not have fifty years to retrain his body to fight.

Zoro was looking at him again, and his normally impassive face was softened with pity. He knew. Brook knew it. They both did.

_If you won't pick up the slack, then leave. Today. _

He knew it hadn't been directed at him. Zoro-san would never say such things, to insinuate that one of his crew was not fit to be nakama any longer. Surely, it had just been a warning, proof of his devotion to protecting the crew. He said 'won't', not 'can't'. It was a test of their will.

Brook thought of the nearby island. He thought about his captain.

If he did leave, simply vanish into the night, Luffy-san would never stop looking for him.

So if he had to leave, to break the chain and reforge it, he would have to do something unthinkable. Something that would trick their captain into accepting his resignation. Something drastic.

He hoped he could be forgiven.

* * *

TBC


	2. The Princess Problem

**_Human_**

AN: New classes, new college, new city. Trying to keep up with the writing, too. It's why this was delayed. I love the feedback. Glad people are enjoying it so far. It's going to get emotional. Oh, and from here on out, scenes and character's perspectives will transition several times through each chapter. In this case, Zoro to Brook. Usopp's next.

* * *

_Chapter Two: The Princess Problem_

* * *

Zoro's head hurt.

Also, he felt pity. Brook may not have liked that, but it couldn't be helped. The eight foot tall lanky musician sat on the deck steps, panting and sweating under the cloudless sky. Zoro gave him time. Usopp sat on the railing above, and he was kind enough to pretend that the workout had also winded him. Zoro admired that about him; the liar's skills in acting meant Brook's ego would only be slightly wounded, not devastated.

"That's enough for today."

Brook sagged—whether from relief, shame, or both.

"H-Hey," said Usopp, leaping down lightly from his spot. "Brook, you're going to need new clothes now, aren't you? Let's take a break and go into town to buy some! Yeah, it'll be fun!"

The swordsman took a moment to notice, for the first time, that their musician's attire actually did look tighter. He wasn't an expert on clothing, but he did at least knew that their resident skeleton had until this day found it irritatingly difficult to find clothing small enough to fit him. Most pre-made stuff just slipped right over his bones, and they'd had to resort to letting Nami raid the children's clothing section for the rare, occasional 'fits an eight foot tall kid' article. She had an extra nose hidden somewhere on her body that could smell one thing only: bargains.

And sure enough.

"I heard that," Nami's head turned towards them; she'd been sunbathing on a lounge chair on the deck with a book to cover her face. She lifted it up to glare at all three of them. "You're not going within ten feet of a clothing store without supervision."

"Then go with them," Zoro growled.

"Obviously, I'll have to. But I'm not buying you anything. In fact, I'm charging you both a five hundred belli fee for interrupting my rest."

"What!?" Usopp cried at the same time Brook chuckled mournfully.

"Yohoho, that is so harsh, Nami-san."

"Oh, stop making that expression. It's way too easy to get distracted by your pouting now that you have a face," Nami sighed as she stood up and stretched. "Sanji! Hold lunch for another hour! I'm going out shopping!"

"_Yes, Nami-swaan!"_

"Brook," Zoro said sharply, and the skeleton (former skeleton, he reminded himself—again) looked up at him with a downturned mouth. "You did fine. It'll be easier tomorrow."

Morale wasn't his area of expertise, either. But their musician needed it, and considering Zoro had lost count of the times Brook had been there to raise their spirits, it was the least he could do. In any case, he wasn't going to improve or get any stronger as long as he continued to let himself down.

The New World.

Luffy would never understand the seriousness of Brook's transformation. Of all the crew, only Franky seemed to think on the same level as Zoro. Considering Franky had turned his own body into a mass of machine and weaponry for the sake of the crew, it didn't surprise Zoro that the cyborg found Brook's change of physical appearance unnerving.

They needed more time.

* * *

Brook's heart thumped.

His cane took the royal position as his third leg, keeping him upright and steady as he traversed the docks with his two nakama. Nami-san and Usopp-san were so kind enough to pretend that he was not slowing them down, which only increased his affection for them. In fairness, he was almost too distracted to feel guilty. The soft whistle of air through his nose, the barely noticable sensation of sweat on his brow, the feeling of his padded fingers pinched together on the handle of his cane...

Overwhelming.

What would Chopper-san say, if he found out about their excursion? Somehow, he did not think the little doctor had a trip to a busy port city in mind when he ordered Brook's exercise.

"It's so busy here," Usopp-san observed to his left. The long-nose sniper had his hands clasped behind his head as he walked, stretching out his cooling muscles. "If we don't stick together, we'll end up getting lost. Good thing Zoro stayed behind, eh Brook?" He chuckled, sounding nervous.

"I wonder why there are so many soldiers," Brook replied distantly, not having heard Usopp's question. He stood, transfixed on the uniformed men who stood on nearly every corner of every building in sight. They all wore plain tan-and-blue, matching clothing and they were armed with rifles and pistols.

"Well, they're not Marines, and they're clearly ignoring us, so who cares?" Nami-san said, shrugging her arms. "Just don't bump into anyone. Sea ports this big are crawling with pickpockets."

As they moved into the main street, where the crowd of loud and boisterous citizens were thickest, Brook noted several more things. First, that his two nakama walked in front of him, but in a not-subtle V-shaped formation. This way, the crowd would not get near him. It was touching, though it added to the constant worry that he was becoming a burden.

Another observation: nobody looked at him. No one stared, gaped, gawked, or turned and ran in the opposite direction. There was no whispering, no pointing, no children frozen with fear and awe, no mothers hustling them away into doorways and alleys as he drew near. The fact that he had grown accustomed to that behaviour now made him feel ill. It was so very unsettling, to not draw any attention at all. It should have been a calming experience, yet it caused his heart to beat faster as anxiety crept in ever closer.

"Nami-san," he said, his voice dry. His voice, dry! If he drank water, it would feel better, surely. So very many things to remember to do—the human body was truly uncomfortable most of the time. He asked tentatively, "Do you know where we are going?"

"I know where we _should_ be going," Nami-san replied. They stopped, and she folded her arms. "I've seen two clothing stores in the past five minutes and they're both boarded up, gone out of business. Look, there's another one."

Brook looked, and sure enough, there was a store just behind them on their left. It was named 'Ali King's Fine Tailoring', but the door was boarded shut. A notice was pasted on the boards too, though he could not read it from a distance.

"I hope you're not lookin' to buy clothes there, young miss," croaked an unfamiliar voice. It belonged to an old man, dressed in an apron with a broom in two hands. He stood on the threshold to his shop, a quaint little general store next door to King's Fine Tailoring. "We folks around here got to do our own mending and sewing. Them all tailors and seamsters work for the beautiful princess, y'see."

"The...beautiful princess?" Nami-san blinked incredulously at him. Brook took a moment to be glad Sanji-san had not come along. "_All_ of them? How many princesses are there?"

"Oh ho ho, just one beautiful princess," the store owner replied, his aged voice strained. "Y'see, each day the beautiful princess gets to pick from three brand new dresses, which the tailors make the day before. We the people, we just couldn't bear the thought of...of the beautiful princess wearing the same dress twice."

There was no questioning the labour put into the elder's tone, and Brook knew why. Two of the closest uniformed guards were looking in their direction. Something cold broiled in his stomach—so peculiar—and it did not feel pleasant.

"_Everyone_ makes their own clothes?" Usopp asked, his voice rising in pitch. "In this huge city?"

"That's right, fellow, and it's...it's just to show how much we people love our beautiful princess," stammered the old man. Wthout so much as a nod, he turned his back and vanished into his store.

"'Beautiful princess' this, 'beautiful' princess that," sighed Nami-san crossly. "First an island without doctors, and now a kingdom without clothes. It's as if every single island has a curse for spoiled, noble brats."

"H-Hey, Nami, that's not fair," Usopp complained. He was now sitting atop a barrel, leaning forward. "Shirahoshi was nobility, right? She's a nice princess. And Vivi! A kingdom couldn't ask for a better heir, and her father's a great person, too. Right?"

"Of course they are!" she snapped, and Brook began to feel as though he were slipping away again. He had heard his nakama speak of these things often, of a nakama they left behind, and a desert kingdom. Like a fairy tale, sacred history that he could not relate to. It made him feel queerly alien.

Nami-san huffed. "It would just be nice if there were more nobles like Vivi and King Cobra. Just forget it—we're obviously not going to find clothes for Brook if nobody can make them. Let's go back to the ship."

"Aw, but Nami, we just got here! I still have to buy fertilizer and rubber bands, and-"

Brook's attention waned. Not, of course, due to a lack of interest in his crew mates. No, he could not fully listen anymore, because of a melody that sliced through the din of the busy street. A sweet flute melody, impossibly loud for its delicate nature. He did not even notice that he'd wandered away from his nakama until he reached the corner of the street, and the source of the music came into view.

There were two musicians—one, a young girl of perhaps nine years of age, and a much older man. Though the girl was standing, playing her flute with an upturned felt hat at her feet, the older man reclined against the wall with his violin in his lap. There was no mistaking it—he was as pale, weakened and ill as she was vibrant and healthy. Nobody stopped to place coins in the mostly empty hat, and by Brook's professional judgement, they never would. Not unless the lovely solo became a duet once again. Her song, '_Elegant Summer'_ had been created as two halves of a whole. Not two parts.

For some reason, this made him miserable.

_Because the waves made poor accompaniment for his violin. They did not even know the parts, and there could be no rhythm without a steady beat. He had no heartbeat! And the waves had no heart, and no fingers with which to pluck strings or beat drums._

_ "From the top!" he shouted into the suffocating fog, which gladly swallowed his hysterical laugh. And then it devoured his music without mercy._

"Brook!"

Usopp's voice jerked him into the harsh daylight, filled with welcome and empty warmth.

"Oi, are you feeling alright?" his sniper friend asked, genuine concern outpouring from his soul. To which Brook had to blink and unstuck his throat before he could respond.

"Y-Yes, Usopp-san," he chirped with a tight-lipped smile. "I heard a melody that brought back memories, that's all. Where is Nami-san?"

"Oh, she just went to buy materials. If we can't find new clothes, I can just alter the ones you already have. O-Oi, Brook..."

"Hmm?"

"What happened? There's a dark bruise on your face...?"

Surprised, the former skeleton raised his fingers to lightly touch the skin of his left cheek. Sure enough, a painful bruise had formed there, and he had not even felt it until now. "Ah, so there is," he mused, and chuckled. "Don't worry, Usopp-san. That happened during training with Zoro-san. This new body is still very delicate, yohoho!

The sniper scratched at the thick mess of black hair on his scalp. "Yeah...I guess. Maybe we should get you back to Chopper."

Brook knew he must agree—not that he felt particularly concerned about this mysterious, albeit minor injury, but he _was_ concerned about what might happen if Chopper-san grew frantic. The kingdom guards' reception of visitors was colder than his Soul Solid. A rampaging reindeer doctor would simply agitate a potentially full-scale war with law enforcement.

"May I do one thing before we go?" he inquired of his nakama.

"Sure...uh, what is it?"

"Yohoho, it will just take a moment," Brook assured him, and gripping his cane tightly, crossed the street.

The nine-year-old talented girl stared up at him—_very up—_and ceased playing. Her blank, anxious stare was oddly comforting. Gently, Brook removed a hundred-belli note from an inner pocket and leaned forward to drop it.

She struck like lightning. It was only because he body was yet too fatigued to jump, that he remained still. The girl's hand closed tightly around his wrist the moment he released the note, and her grip was like an iron clamp.

"You. You're pirates," she hissed. Not an accusation. A statement.

Brook could only stare back from behind his tinted glasses. Their vast difference in height worked against him; he almost toppled over, and might have, if Usopp had not suddenly grabbed his shoulder to steady him. "Oi, oi, little girl!"

"You need to go," the 'little girl' growled fiercely; she was clenching her flute so tightly in the other hand that her knuckles were white. "Now. Don't come back."

And just like that, she released him. Brook wavered and steadied himself with the aid of his cane and his nakama's arm. "I'm fine, Usopp-san. Yohoho, I merely lost my balance again."

The nine-year-old was playing her flute again. To her, they might as well have turned into pigeons. Behind her, the old, sick man had dozed off with his arms limply curled around his violin.

Usopp-san swallowed loudly, transfixed on something behind his old nakama.

The lanky musician forced his cramped, tender neck to turn slowly, and pivoted himself to see the horror that had stricken his friend.

"Halt, pirates, in the name of the True King," said the stern royal officer, flanked by a half-dozen well-armed men.

The girl's flute seemed to grow even louder in Brook's ears, and his long dead nakama sang in every corner of his mind, rattling lose fears he'd long ago packaged away.

_Elegant summer, thou fairest of land  
__Golden sweet meadows, and pearly white sand  
__Bring ye home unto me  
__Bring the summer light with thee_

* * *

TBC


	3. The Eyes

**AN:** You guys are an inspiration, truly. I am trying to get this updated every 6-7 days at least, if not sooner. I've fleshed out the entire plot quite well so far. This chapter focuses on Sanji and Usopp's POV. This is the last 'set up' chapter, and for a while we're going to experience some turbulence. Stay tuned!

* * *

_Chapter Three: The Eyes_

* * *

"Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym."

-Stephen King

* * *

Usopp could have ran for it, easily. There were half a dozen ways to escape before one of the soldiers could grab him. Even Nami could do it. In fact, under any normal circumstances, he wouldn't have even thought about it this long. He'd have just bolted back to the ship as fast as he could, a hundred percent sure that Nami would be hot on his heels. No one flattered his...erm, professional combat avoidance skills the way their navigator did.

But not today.

Not without leaving Brook behind.

"W-What do you want with us?" he squeaked out, much to his embarrassment.

The sternest of all eight men standing before them had a nose that looked broken—or had been multiple times over his life. His eyes were sharp, gray, cold. "You are hereby summoned to the exalted presence of her Eminence, the beautiful princess Harumi. Since you are not citizens of the kingdom El Lo Misca, you are therefore under arrest and may not refuse the summons lest your party be executed on sight."

Sandpaper shredded Usopp's throat as he almost screeched his alarm, but Heracles' training kicked in. He clenched his teeth and swallowed it down. _Why_ had they chosen to leave the ship without protection? Zoro was the one who started this—_he_ should be here to intimidate the scary people who wanted to kill him.

"What does this princess want with us, exactly?" demanded Nami, folding her arms. "We're not breaking any laws just by shopping."

"The beautiful princess' orders _are _the law," barked the crooked-beaked soldier gruffly. His men shifted their weight and held their spears menacingly. "Come peacefully, or in chains."

"That will not be necessary," Brook piped in, with well meaning in his tone. Even though Usopp hadn't had the chance to get to know _human_ Brook, he knew that voice. "It would be rude to refuse an invitation from a young lady, Usopp-san, Nami-san. But before we go, may I take my medicine? Lately I have not been well."

_Oh, this was perfect! _The sniper found it harder to keep his face from looking gleeful than it had been to act fearless. He'd been trying to think of a way to send for help, and their old skeleton had thought of it for him. The _smoke pellets_. Zoro had made him promise to use them if he were ever separated and needed help—that was shortly after he'd rejoined the crew, of course, when...

Now wasn't a good time to dwell on that.

"Be quick about it," growled the soldier.

"Usopp-san, would you be so kind?" Brook looked at him, and Usopp started to wonder...he couldn't even see Brook's eyes. Had _anyone_ seen them? It hadn't even occurred to him until now, so used was he to the empty, dark stare of his nakama's skull.

Pushing that thought aside, too, he hurriedly fished into his pouch for two of his smallest, pill-like smoke pellets. Then, holding them out as if to give them over, he released his most theatrical fake sneeze in the history of Captain Usopp and his Eight Thousand Men.

The pellets were flung to the ground during the exaggerated motion, and burst into a wild bloom of gray smoke, enveloping both sides of the street.

As the soldiers chorused in alarm and outrage, Usopp reconsidered his options—_now_ would have been the perfect time to run. Nami coughed and waved the smoke out of her face, and boy did she look ticked off. Oops, maybe next time he should have somehow tipped her off about Brook's plan? No, it wouldn't have been possible.

"Ah! Sorry! Please remain calm, gentlemen!" Brook was exclaiming, and through the thinning, gray veil the snipe saw him raise his hands in a helpless gesture. "That was purely an accident! My assistant is always mistaking his ammunition for my medicine—yohoho, it is no wonder I do not get well with such a clumsy helper."

Brook was laughing it off, pretending to be someone he wasn't, putting on a show to cover up the fact that they had just given _the_ signal. A towering plume of smoke that would be visible from the ship, where Franky would definitely see it and send Zoro, Sanji or Luffy to help. Maybe even all three.

As the smoke cleared further, it was obvious that the soldiers weren't completely convinced. _Uh, oh_. It was the only thought that rushed through Usopp's head before he heard Nami yelp, and saw through the corner of his eyes as a ninth kingdom guard grabbed her wrist and clamped a pair of metal cuffs onto them. Brook was similarly besieged, almost toppling him over like a sapling in the wind. Usopp didn't even try to refuse when the captain of the guard himself ungently threw cuffs over his forearms and clenched them tight.

"Any further attempts to escape will result in official charges being placed against your entire crew! As a further warning, a lifetime of incarceration is the _minimum_ punishment for vile pirates of the Grand Line," ranted their newest enemy, looking down at Usopp and sneering _up_ (ha!) at their tall musician with a leer. "Bring them! The beautiful princess does not have all day."

"Th-th-this isn't fair!" Usopp sputtered as he was lurched forward. "We haven't done anything wrong! It was an accident!"

His cries fell on deaf ears. Of course he panicked. He was afraid, he _knew_ what happened to pirates where they were least wanted. Afraid, and angry. That second part kicked in when he saw one of the men push Brook forward. It almost sent him flying, but Nami reacted faster than Usopp had ever seen and grabbed his elbow to stop him from falling over.

The unadulterated wrath in her eyes sent a chill down Usopp's spine.

* * *

"I'm going!"

Two years ago, Sanji wouldn't have been able to stop his captain from doing just that. Luckily, while their lead idiot had gotten faster and stronger, so had their lead moss-head. And Franky. Having a very large, nearly indestructible cyborg (with or without the outrageous blue pontytail) definitely helped when it came to holding Luffy down.

_Shit_. He shouldn't have let Nami-san go with those two idiots. Now Usopp had given the help signal, and she could be anywhere, with _anyone_. What had he been thinking?

"Shut up! I'm going to bring them back!" Luffy resorted to biting into the large metal hand that was clenched around him. It couldn't have hurt, but Franky grimaced at the dents left behind by their captain's teeth. "It's my decision as the captain and I'm going to help Usopp, Nami and Brook!"

"Calm down and listen already," Sanji repeated for the fourth time, flicking a cigarette butt into the grass. "The city is crawling with military. They just up and appeared like ghosts; for all we know, there could be twice as many in disguise. Which means this whole thing was a trap to lure us in. Our enemy is two steps ahead of us, and we can't go charging in without some kind of plan to rescue Nami-swan."

"Oi, failed lover," Zoro grunted at him in his usual, gorilla-like way. "Of those three, she's the least of our worries. It's the other two that are helpless right now."

"I hope they have not been chained up and tortured by now," Robin remarked easily. His beautiful Robin-chan, her words of concern were likely butterflies of music in his ears. It was just enough to make him care less about the thickheaded swordsman who couldn't form an opinion out of a paper bag.

"I'm worried about Brook," Chopper said unhappily, hanging over the edge of the ship, staring intently into the harbour's boisterous crowds. "His blood pressure was low this morning, and he hasn't brought his weight up enough for long trips. I don't wanna stay here."

It _was_ bad. As a chef, Sanji knew the importance of keeping a steady, healthy diet. Something Brook _hadn't_ had these past few days, thanks to a new stomach lining and cantankerous digestive track. Nothing could be done about that, however. Best case scenario, if they had somehow gotten arrested or taken somewhere, they would feed him something. Worst case...

They could be starving Nami-san. It was well past lunchtime. His angel hadn't eaten since breakfast...

Rage boiled up from his gut to his fists and he almost crushed the smoke in his left hand.

"See? What are we waiting for? Franky, let me go so I can go rescue them!" Luffy howled, and with a groan and a _snap_, he pulled one of his rubber arms free. He started banging on Franky's metal first to try and loosen it. He could have, easily. But it would have injured his shipwright, and their captain would sooner eat his straw hat than purposely hurt an innocent nakama.

Zoro joined Chopper at the side of the ship, using a spyglass to search the interior of the busy port. Before the trio left, there hadn't been a single soldier or uniform in sight. Now they were everywhere, Sanji noted, like rodents in a dirty pantry overnight. Some trap ahd been sprung, and while they didn't seem interested in trying to seize or sink the ship, it wasn't a coincidence that Usopp's smoke flare had gone up shortly after they started appearing.

He was almost tempted to tell Franky to let their captain go. But the thought of the wanton collateral damage that would ensue didn't sit right. The shithead marimo had a point about his beloved Nami-san—if they had any hope, she was it until backup could arrive.

"We should create a distraction," Robin-chan spoke up in her infinite wisdom. Her arms were now crossed over her chest as she provided Franky some Luffy-control support. Multiple limbs sprouted from the cyborg's arm and help the captain's free arm down with no small effort. She went on calmly, "If we can divert their attention, one of us may get close enough to find out what happened to Brook's group. Since this is most likely the island where the Devil Fruit artifact originated, I advise we be cautious when dealing with their kingdom's military strength."

"Just walking in isn't an option," said the moss-head, who was obvious having a rare episode of intelligence. "Luffy, you can help me distract the soldiers. The rest of you figure out who's going in. Each of our groups will take a baby transponder snail."

Luffy's struggles actually seemed to lessen over the next few seconds, until he finally stopped altogether. He swallowed. Again, two years ago he may never have accepted leaving the act of rescuing nakama _to_ his nakama. If Rayleigh had taught him anything, it was to reinforce that natural instinct he had to put unbreakable trust in his crew mates.

Franky knew that, too, and put him down on the ship's deck. As soon as the captain's sandals touched wood, he looked up.

Sanji smiled around his cigarette when he saw that look glint in the future Pirate King's eyes. Sometimes, he pitied the people who made an enemy of his captain so much, it hurt.

* * *

TBC


End file.
